


Compliance

by Dellessa



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 00:23:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2249013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story by Dellessa.<br/>Art by Shibara. </p><p>For- TF Reverse Big Bang.</p><p>beta'd by Blkandtandogs and Thepheonixqueen. <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compliance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shibara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shibara/gifts).



Title(s): Compliance  
Art Work #9  
 **Artist:** Shibara  
 **Author:** Dellessa  
 **Continuity:** IDW  
 **Rating:** M  
 **Characters/pairings:** Prowl/Bonecrusher/Hook/Longhaul/Mixmaster/Scavenger  
 **Content advice/warnings:** Dubious consent. Use of Drugs.  
 **Summary:** Prowl has a bad day and ends up being pampered, much to his chagrin.  
 **Notes:** Also inspired by this prompt: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/13205.html?thread=14534037#t14534037

Art by Shibara. 

OoOoOoOo

Prowl was not entirely sure who hit him upside the helm and left him lying on the ground, dazed. The list of mechs he’s crossed in his time was long. The world dimmed and then faded to black leaving him in a pool of nothingness. He wasn’t sure how long he blacked out. Or how long he laid face first in the dirt.

The world flickered in and out as he sprawled out on the cold ground. Sounds were muffled, and there were voices above him. He couldn’t make out the words. His vision  
dimmed and and blurred as he was rolled over, and picked up carefully. He could see colours for a moment, blobs of green and purple which only made him curse inside. Although, that was not what came out of his vocalizer. He spat nothing but static. 

“Should we take him to Fixit? That dent looks bad. Who the frag would do that?” Scavenger said to his right. “Prowl? Prowl can you hear me? Are you okay? You don’t look okay.” 

Longhaul grunted behind him, “‘Course he isn’t okay. Let’s take him to Hook. He’s better than Fixit any day.” 

“I don’t know,” Scavenger said. “Don’t you---” 

“He’s part of our team,” Longhaul added. “He’s our responsibility.”

Prowl wanted to protest on both accounts. He wasn’t theirs in any way, shape or form. no way. He didn’t want to see Hook, or any of them. What he wanted to do was get Arcee and track down the mech that clobbered him, but it was clear he wasn't going to get a choice in the matter. He couldn’t even tell where he was being taken, but he had a good idea that it was to the Constructicon’s makeshift home. No mech stopped them as he was no doubt carted across the camp to wherever the frag Longhaul and Scavenger were taking him. 

They finally stopped, and as the light changed he could tell he was taken inside. “Hook! We need some help here! Prowl was hurt! Someone attacked him!” 

Prowl struggled weakly against the arms holding him, but he wasn’t released. He was carried across the room, and sat on a berth. Hook’s medbay. 

“Lem’me go,” he finally croaked. ”Fine.” 

Hook snorted, “Stop wiggling or I will strap you down. You aren’t fine, you have a nasty dent on you helm. We’ll fix you though. Just relax and let me take care of you Prowl. I’ll make you all better.” 

“Mixmaster! Get in here, I need your help.” 

“What?” Mixmaster peeked into the room, “What the frag.” He moved into the room, and to the table on the end, “something to kill the pain? Or something else?” he asked already beginning to mix chemicals together. 

Hook rolled his optics, “Pain.” 

Prowl rolled off of the medical berth before Longhaul could stop him and stumbled to the door, and would have fallen over if Longhaul hadn’t caught him. 

“Let go. I’m fine.” He struggled, his voice becoming stronger, but he was just too weak to escape, and soon enough Mixmaster and Hook came over a syringe in Hook’s hand. 

“No! No!” Prowl said, thinking the worse, these crazy mechs were trying to kill him. For all that he knew they were the ones that hit him over the head to begin with. His spark hammered in his chest as his vision dimmed again and he went limp in Longhaul’s arms. This was not his best sol. not by far.

OoOoOoOo

He came online in the softest berth he had ever been in since before the war started. It felt soft against his doorwings, and made him want to just offline his optics and fall back into recharge. It was very tempting, but something niggling kept him awake.

Footsteps. 

He heard footsteps, and then Fixit was leaning over him. “Nice to see you among the land of the living again. How is your helm feeling?” 

“Hurts.” 

“Yes, I imagine it would. Hook did a splendid job of patching you up though. Processor injuries are tricky things and he wanted a second opinion. You look good though. It’s going to take a while to heal, and you might have helm-aches in the meantime.” 

“So, I can go?” 

“Oh! Oh, no. I didn’t say that. You need to be on berthrest.” 

Prowl scowled up at the medic. This had to either be a joke, or a nightmare. 

“The Constructicons have volunteered to keep an optic out for you until you are well again, kind of them, isn’t it?” 

“Kind is not the word I would use in concern with those mechs,” Prowl glared at the medic. “I’m ready to go to my home.” 

“I’m sorry, Prowl. I don’t think that is a good idea at all. With this sort of injury you need to be monitored.” 

“I could stay in your medbay.” 

“Oh, Prowl. Hook’s medbay is more than sufficient. You will be fine here.” He patted Prowl’s shoulder, got up and adjusted the energon drip that Prowl had not even noticed before and made his way out the door without another by-your-leave. It left Prowl seething. How dare he leave him here!

OoOoOoOo

“You look tense,” Scavenger said, sidling up to him and plucking the datapad from his hands. “Hook said you shouldn’t be reading it will just give you a headache.”

“My helm already hurts,” Prowl growled. 

“Oh, well, maybe I can make you feel better,” he pushed back the mesh and caressed Prowl’s plating. “Please, can I?” 

Prowl narrowed his optics, and just knew the mech wouldn't just leave and give him back his datapad. He huffed, “Fine, whatever.” It was bad enough that he could feel the pleasure at his statement through the bond. Any other time he would have had it blocked firmly, but it just did not seem to work with his helm injury. It was hard enough to think let alone block anything. 

Scavenger's crane wiggled like a puppy dogs tail. It was sad how easily the mech was pleased. He bent over lapping at Prowl’s plating. He would be lying if he didn’t admit that it felt good to himself. It did. The mech knew how to use his glossa to the best effect. He lapped at the inside of Prowl’s thighs, nibbling and nipping his way to Prowl’s interface panel. It was hot by the time Scavenger began lapping at those seams. He was patient. Far more patient than Prowl would have given him credit for. 

Prowl let his helm fall back, optics closed as his spike sprang free, and Scavenger swallowed it down eagerly. The mech bobbed his helm, taking more in each time until he swallowed it down his intake. 

Prowl moaned, his chassis growing warm until he let it all go.

OoOoOoOo

Mixmaster look pleased with himself as he walked into the sickroom carrying a large tray. He set it down on the berthside table. “I brought you a treat.”

Prowl craned his helm, and blinked. He had not seen such things since the end of the Golden Age. “Where did you get those?” 

“I made them,” the mech purred, and picked up a small piece of crystal cake and pressed it to to Prowl’s lips. Prowl opened his mouth reluctantly, and moaned when the crystals melted on his glossa. His engine revved in delight. They had always been his favourite. 

“There is more,” Mixmaster grinned and pressed another to his lips, a magnesium bonbon with a mercury center. Prowl bit into it, moaning again. 

“There, there, lay back.” Mixmaster said. “Don’t want you getting too excited. How does your helm feel?” 

Prowl huffed, “It hurts. You know it hurts.” And just like that his bad mood creeped back in.

“Well. As it would happen I have something that will make that feel better too.” 

Prowl accepted the cube when it was offered to him, not even asking what it was as he swallowed it down. It burned, leaving him warm inside.

“You should feel better in a moment,” Mixmaster said, and pressed another treat against Prowl’s mouth. Jellied Energon with crumbs of silver and crystal. 

Prowl closed his optics savouring the taste. The energon melted on his glossa. Delicious. He could already feel whatever drug Mixmaster had given him making him feel heavy and warm, but the pain was gone, even if he could feel it hovering over the edge of his consciousness. 

“You look so beautiful right now. Lovely. Wonderful. You have no idea how glad we are to have you here. You belong here, by our side.”

Prowl grunted, “I don’t. I’m not yours.” 

“You are. You just don’t realize it yet,” Mixmaster said completely sure of himself.

OoOoOoOo

The board was set up when Prowl onlined the next sol, and Hook was staring at him, apparently waiting for him to online. A cube was pressed into Prowl’s hand before he could say anything. “I thought we might pass the time with a game of fullstassis. You’ve played it before, haven’t you?”

“I have.” 

“I’m not surprised. You do love strategy games...so I’ve heard,” Hook said and set up the board. “Think you can sit up?” Prowl grumbled as the Constructicon helped him do just that, fluffing the pillow up behind his back that cushioned his doorwings. His helm gave a dull throb, making Prowl moan softly. 

A tray, with the game board was placed over Prowl’s lap and the medic produced a syringe. “Here, there will make you feel better, and we can play our game. Wouldn’t that be nice?” 

The syringe slid in to Prowl’s main energon line making the pain slip away, and leaving him feeling like he was floating. He frowned down at the board as Hook made his first move. 

For once it felt hard to think and the game swayed toward Hook winning as they progressed further along. Prowl stared down at the diamond patterned board and then back over at Hook. “You drugged me to win!” 

Hook laughed, “I wouldn't do that. I drugged you to make you feel better. You are wonderful, and amazing. You deserve to win every time.” 

Prowl scowled at him, “Don’t patronize me.” 

“I would never dream of it,” Hook said, and gave Prowl a brilliant, and slightly starstruck smile. “I adore you.” 

“You are all crazy.” 

“I don’t know about that either. I think we are perfectly sane.” 

Prowl’s hand shook as he made his next move, “Crazy. I want to go home.” 

“Doctor’s orders. Even Fixit agreed with me. You need rest and relaxation. You should be pampered and cared for.” 

“I don’t like you.” 

“You just have to get to know us. We like what we’ve seen of you. What we’ve felt. You should just stay here with us,” Hook wheedle as he studied the board.

“Cheating.” 

Hook laughed, and finally made his move, “Never. I’m too good to need to.” 

Prowl frowned at that. It was hard to study the board with his processor feeling so floaty. “Liar.” 

“Now, Prowl, don’t be that way.” Hook moved again. The mech was letting him win now, Prowl could tell, and it rankled. Anger rose until it finally found an outlet and he flipped the board, growling. 

Hook stared in shock. “If your helm was hurting that bad you just had to say so, my dear.” 

Prowl saw red. “My head doesn’t hurt.” 

“Obviously it does.” He pulled a syringe from his subspace, and pushed it into Prowl’s neck before the already groggy mech could stop him. “There now, why don’t you rest and we can play again tomorrow...if you are feeling better.” 

“Hate you.” Prowl said as he started to drift off. “Horrible.” 

“Oh, I know you don’t mean that. You are just being cranky. Hopefully you will feel better in the morning,” Hook said as he tucked Prowl in and pressed their lips together. “Sweet recharge.”

OoOoOoOo

Prowl watched the tub be hauled into the room with a suspicious optic. “What are you doing?”

Longhaul looked up as he settled the tub in place and began to fill it with solvent. “Hook said you needed a bath. The washrack would be a bad idea. We don’t want you to slip and fall.” 

Prowl stared, “There is no way I’m getting in there.” 

“Oh, don’t say that. You will and you will enjoy it. It will feel nice. I brought oils and bubble bath, and a rest for you so your wings won’t get cramped up. You'll feel nice. I promise.”

The bubbles were added and before Prowl could lodge a formal protest he found himself deposited inside the warm solvent. It felt very nice, but that wasn’t something he was willing to admit. 

Longhaul gently washed his plating, rubbing the oils into his joints with equal care. The mech was surprisingly deft at it. 

“We’ll get you all shined up once this is done. Wouldn't you like that too?”

Prowl only grunted in ascent. This was becoming utterly ridiculous. “Do I have a choice?”

Longhaul laughed, “You always have a choice, but I think you would enjoy it. We just want to pamper you while you're sick, that’s all. You are gestalt. You are one of us.”

“I’ll never be one of you.” 

“Don’t be silly, you are already one of us. The best of us. The most clever and wonderful part of us.” 

Prowl heaved a sigh, and vowed to get revenge on Fixit for leaving him with these crazy mechs. “I’m really not.” 

“Deny it all you want. You keep ending up back here with us.” 

Prowl was silent as the mech climbed into the tub with him, cleaning every part of him down to the tips of his peds. Prowl relaxed back against the pad, his wings feeling cushioned. It felt nice, surprisingly. He didn’t even put up a fuss when Longhaul moved over him, pressing their lips together, and caressing his plating in an entirely different way. 

Prowl let his interface panel snap open, and his spike pressurized between them instantly. He felt hot, and as much as he hated to admit it he wanted this. He wanted Longhaul hot around him and the mech was more than happy to oblige. 

Longhaul moved slowly, lifting himself up and letting himself fall back on the spike. Clenching around it until they were both venting hard and Prowl finally shouted his release. 

“There you go. Don’t you feel better?” Longhaul asked as he moved off of Prowl, and then lifted them both out of the tub. He carefully dried them both off and brought out the wax, carefully polishing Prowl until he shined under the dim light.

OoOoOoOo

“Just lie on your chest,” Bonecrusher said, as he came in bearing what looked like massage oils. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I will make you feel good. Cross my spark.”

“I’m fine.” 

“You look very tense. Come on. I wouldn't hurt you.” 

“It’s not a matter of you hurting me or not,” Prow grumbled. 

“Please,” Bonecrusher said in a surprisingly gentle voice. “Let me help you.” 

Prowl glared, “You aren’t going to leave me alone until I do, are you?” 

Bonecrusher laughed, “Got it in one.” 

Prowl grumbled and grunted as he wiggled on the berth and finally settled on his front, “I hate you.” 

Bonecrusher laughed again, “You say the prettiest things.”

Prowl growled, “Just get on with it.” 

Bonecrusher sat on the edge of the berth, and ran his hands across Prowl’s plating. “You are beautiful.” He got up and moved down the berth and stared on Prowl’s peds. He worked on the joints, carefully working out all of the kinks and loosening taunt cables. “Absolutely beautiful.” 

He worked his way up slowly, carefully making sure not to miss a spot. “How does that feel?” 

Prowl let out a little, startled moan. “Wonderful,” he said almost as if the words were squeezed from his lips. 

“Good. I want you to feel good.” 

“It does feel good,” Prowl mumbled, and whimpered when the mech found a particularly tense spot.

He finally moved up to the space between Prowl’s doorwings. He rubbed the joints and the edges, making Prowl whimper and keen, his engine gunning and his chassis growing hot despite whirling fans. 

“It’s okay to let it go. Just relax. Enjoy the pleasure,” Bonecrusher said, tweaking at Prowl’s sweet spots until the mech was overloading beneath him. His plating crackled as the energy was discharged, and Prowl went limp against the berth.

“You’re not just beautiful, you are absolutely perfect,” Bonecrusher rumbled, his own fans running high. 

Prowl’s plating pinged as it cooled down, and when he was relaxed against the berth Bonecrusher started all over again, making Prowl keen and beg. 

“You have to tell me what you want.”

“You, now. I want you.” 

Bonecrusher purred, caressing Prowl’s interface panel. “Then open up.” 

The panel snapped open, revealing Prowl’s already dripping valve. “Now.” 

Bonecrusher moved behind him, pushing inside the too tight valve. Who was he to deny Prowl anything.

OoOoOoOo

It felt like he had been in convalescence forever, but eventually the helmaches faded away, and the medic pronounced him fit for work again. It suited Prowl just fine. He had never been one to be idle for long. He was a bot that needed to move, needed a purpose...needed to be wanted.

And he still needed to find out who had attacked him. He was sure that would be made clear in time. He would make them pay...they would as well he had no doubt.

Things had changed though. He had stayed so long with the Constructicons that he simply never left. He settled into life with them, continued to grumble even when they went out of their way to pamper and spoil him. Secretly he enjoyed it, but he continued to protest out loud more out of habit than any real irritation. Even though, he knew that they knew that he did not feel that way at all. Their bond grew stronger the longer he stayed with them, but he could not bring himself to really mind, not when his spark felt lighter than it had in vorns.


End file.
